You're Never Over
by KDtheGhostwriter
Summary: "How do you move on when there's nothing to move on to?" A retired super soldier faces his new reality as an obsolete weapon of mass destruction.


**You're Never Over**

_Metal Gear Solid Muse_

[Old Snake Character Study]

OVER.

After countless years: bullet wounds, scars, explosions, wars, love, loss, sorrow. It was finally all over. The conflict between the Army and Genome soldiers had ended. JD, the AI that had control over the mind of every individual soldier, had been fried. The Patriots, the infrastructure that was the basis of the world's war economy, had fallen into nothingness. And Liquid Snake, the man who would seize control, had been terminated.

_Liquid_.

Solid Snake sat thinking in a large, leather chair. The flickering of the fireplace dimmed his already dark features. He was alone and it felt odd. On one hand, he wanted more than anything to be alone. Hearing that you only had a month - maybe two if you wanted to get crazy - to live didn't offer many chances to welcome the smiling company of either the small child or the over-excited scientist. On the other hand, when you had lead a life as lonely as this, you craved for that interaction, part of you never being able to decide. He decides he's in far too dark of a mood to pull himself out without some time, and remains alone. He pulls out the cigar taken from Big Boss earlier that week. Possibly the last smoke of his life.

"_Don't spend the life you have left fighting_._"_

It was an interesting statement. And part of Snake could only feel resentment. He and Liquid both were clones. Test tube babies created from the DNA of one of the greatest American soldiers to ever live. The goal was to surpass him. To create the perfect weapons. They succeeded. What they didn't count on was the possibility of those weapons having feelings.

_How can you move on when there's nothing to move on to?_

Solid Snake knew from the beginning he was expendable. He was a soldier. That was part of the job. It wasn't until his mission at Shadow Moses that he realized that he never had his own will. He realized then just how twisted everything was. How he was being used to further some hidden agenda; an agenda everyone except him knew about. He was meant to be a soldier. Nothing more. Nothing less. He was destined to leave the world this way. A rapidly aging clone riddled with disease. No one ever expected anything different. He had no future. No alternative. What did he think he was he supposed to do after all this was done? He had retired once already. It took all the resolve he had not to lose his sanity. He just couldn't be still. He had to have battle. Addicted to the high that came from the bloodshed and violence. It made him sick. Had he been so conditioned to fight that he couldn't live without it?

He would soon find out. This retirement was permanent.

He took a long drag of the cigar and exhaled the fumes as he crossed the room to the window. Otacon had gathered up Sunny and followed Snake to an out-of-the-way cabin in a wooded area overlooking a mid-sized lake. He insisted that the two didn't have to come, but they were…friends, and Hal took it upon himself. It was funny, all they had been through together and the word friend was still so new to Snake. He had never really had any real "friend" to speak of other than Gray Fox. Everyone else had been an associate, a comrade, a partner on the battlefield. No one significant to his knowledge.

_Partner. Comrade. Meryl._

Thoughts drift to the young woman encountered on his first trip to Shadow Moses nine years ago. He had felt…strongly for her. That had been a mistake. Obviously, it would have never worked. His current condition all but confirmed that. She was far too young to be tied to a man slated to have his life cut in half. It wouldn't be fair. Hopefully Johnny will be good enough. Based on the stories Snake has heard of his ancestors, if their kids go for a dip in Johnny's end of the gene pool. _Unbelievable_. Another drag taken, he deposits the excess soot out the open window.

"_Maybe, if you had been in my place…you wouldn't have made the same mistakes that I did."_

Snake took a long hard look at the cigar in his hand, his expression falling, the brow losing it's sternness. Big Boss. A light sigh made its way out of the old man's still large and developed chest. Solid Snake, in place of Big Boss? Not bloody likely. Throughout his career, Solid Snake had pulled off many perilous feats. But those paled in comparison to the terrors Big Boss had seen. He had even been ordered to kill his mentor as part of a cover-up by the United States to prove to Russia they meant no harm. All part of a ploy by the powers that be to get their hands on a limitless trust fund for the sake of war. All of this, and Big Boss had no idea.

"_Ever since the day I killed The Boss… I was already dead."_

He felt the anger returning now. Clenching his fists; digging finger nails into palms; knuckles going white. He was a soldier. They both were. They followed orders. To the letter. Even bad ones. He would have made the same mistakes. He wouldn't have known where to draw the line. When does loyalty to one's country end and where does respect of oneself begin? Maybe if he had figured that out sooner…

_Dammit!_

Too much time to think. There was always too much time to think. When he wasn't fighting, he wasn't doing anything. Which always lead to…dangerous thoughts. His "final mission" in the graveyard wasn't the first time he had put a gun in his mouth. He had dilly-dallied around with the idea several times before. It wasn't an odd occurrence, as he found out. Soldiers who had served only one tour of duty had frequent thoughts of suicide. Snake had been subjected to a life of endless battle. It left his mind and body fractured. He had never been one to brood for too long or even to feel bitter. (He kept himself from feeling anything in order to commit himself fully to the mission at hand.) But now, after all was said and done, and all that was left for him to do was die, he couldn't help but feel angry, cold resentment for the people that did this to him. Snake let a stiff grunt escape his lips. A final puff sent into the air and the cigar had outlived its use. A bit like himself perhaps. He crossed the room and extinguished what was left on the ashtray on top of the mantle. Now was as good a time as any to quit.

"_This…is only the beginning, Snake."_

"Sunny, wait up!"

"Haha, you have to keep up then, silly!"

Snake returned to the window and watched the man and child playing in the yard below. The sounds of their laughter intermingling with the sound crumpled leaves of all varieties being kicked up and stepped on. The mutated FOXDIE inside him was no longer contagious. It had apparently been overpowered by a new strain that had been injected into him at the beginning of his mission to find Liquid. This meant that he was no longer a threat to the people around him that had not yet been exposed. It had been too late for Big Boss and Liquid Ocelot and EVA and the other original members of The Patriots. But he still had Otacon and Sunny close by. A smirk graced his face. It really was the small wonders that made the difference.

"Uncle Snake?" The small child's voice brought him back to reality. He looked down to see her bright, joyful eyes looking up at him expectantly. "Won't you come play with me and Hal?"

The mission had ended. The fight was over. But he wasn't useless. He still had friends and those friends needed him. He didn't have much time left in the world, but he couldn't imagine spending his last days any other way. Out in the field, he is merely Solid Snake: Son of Big Boss, trained killer, engineered weapon. To the two people living with him now, he didn't need to be any of those things. To them, he was simply David. And that was enough reason to stick around just a little bit longer.

"Yeah, Sunny. Of course. I'll be right down."

**AN:**  
>Different musings I had while putting myself in the mindset of Solid Snake after the conclusion of MGS 4: Guns of the Patriots. Also my first serious character study. All characters and properties belong to the mighty Hideo Kojima and their respective owners. Thank you for reading.<p>

_~KD_


End file.
